A Serendipitous Encounter
by CuteLikeMomiji
Summary: An unlikely friendship changes, well, everything. Canon divergent, pairings undecided, etc.


Summary: An unlikely friendship changes, well, everything.

**A/N:** I'm not narcissistic enough to think that many people will find this little thing interesting, but if anyone actually does read this, I'm insanely grateful. Please leave a review? I'm not sure if I want to continue this, so any input will be greatly appreciated!

* * *

Chapter One

"Did you hear about that Granger girl? She definitely got what was coming to her!"

"Well, she is such a know-it-all! Someone was eventually going to put her in her place. It's a shame Weasley beat me to it, though. Where did you say she was?"

"Still crying in the bathroom! You'd think she'd be a little more mature, but apparently not. She's still there!"

"Immaturity _is_ the true hallmark of a Gryffindor, eh?" There was tittering laughter from the other gossiper.

Penelope frowned as she looked up from her book; the conversation was concerning. From what she could deduce, there was another bullying case going on. This time, however, the perpetrator didn't seem to be a Slytherin.

Penelope shut her book with a regretful sigh—it was her duty as a Prefect to look out for the students' welfare. She strolled over to the two gossiping girls, first years from the looks of it, and cleared her throat. Their heads snapped up, and they squirmed under the harsh gaze of the upperclassman.

She smirked, satisfied with their shame at being caught in the midst of their hateful commentary. "Miss Turpin, Miss Brocklehurst," she barked out, "would you care to elaborate on your conversation?"

Ten minutes later, Ravenclaw was docked twenty points, and Penelope Clearwater was on her way to find Hermione Granger.

* * *

At first glance, the bathroom seemed deserted. Irritation sparked within the Ravenclaw Prefect; her housemates would have to be further punished if they had lied and mislead her. After a few moments of stormy contemplation, the sounds of someone sniffling reached Penelope's ears.

It seemed that she was in the right place after all.

Penelope strolled past the row of empty stalls before reaching the last, and solely occupied, one. It appeared that the girl inside had not noticed her presence, as she had not made any indication that Penelope should leave and had not stopped crying. Penelope knocked on the door.

The crying was abruptly—forcefully—halted, and there was an immediate answer. "I'm okay, please leave me alone!"

The fifth year scoffed audibly. "Obviously, if you're crying, you are not alright." The muted sounds of crying resumed, and Penelope winced. Well, that was not the reaction she had been hoping for. She tried again, "Listen," she started, "I'm a Prefect. My name is Penelope. I would like to help you if you'd let me."

The sounds of Hermione's distress lessened after a few moments. Penelope leaned against the wall of the laboratory and waited for the girl on the other side of the stall to collect herself. After a minute or so, the door open slowly, and Hermione hesitantly stood in front of Penelope.

A frown made its way onto the Ravenclaw's face when she noticed that Hermione would not meet her eyes. "So," she started off, "what's your name?" Of course, she was already aware that this was the first year Gryffindor named Hermione Granger, but it seemed like as good a way as any to initiate a conversation.

"Hermione Granger," she rasped out, her voice sore from sobbing.

"Well, Hermione," said Penelope, "would you like to tell me how you got here." There was a hint of a command in the tone of her question.

Hermione went over to the sink and splashed cold water on her face to lessen the puffiness of her eyes. It barely worked. She contemplating telling Penelope that it was none of her business, but her respect for the Prefect's authority won out. "That awful Ronald Weasley just irritates me so much!" Her hands balled into fists.

Penelope's eyebrows rose as she followed her to the sinks. Well, anger was a better reaction that sorrow. "Is that just a personality quirk of his, or did he do something particularly heinous this time," she questioned dryly.

A snort of laughter was drawn out of Hermione. "He's always been a jerk to me, but…" she trailed off, unwilling to continue the sentence.

"But he decided to be even more terrible today," finished Penelope. Hermione nodded. "Weasleys," muttered Penelope, "not a lick of sense in the bunch." Percy was nice, but he was so focused on his aspirations that he often did not see what was so obviously in front of him.

Hermione smiled at Penelope's murmured disdain. The expression was quickly replaced with a frown. "He said that I didn't have any friends."

"Well he doesn't have any intelligence," Penelope retorted without a thought. Hermione giggled a little, and Penelope smiled back at her. "Seriously, though, don't let bullies like him get to you."

"But he's right," exclaimed Hermione with tears in her eyes. "No one in my house likes me! I hear them all talk about me when they think I'm not paying attention! 'Oh, Granger! What a bratty know-it-all!' They mock me just because I want to do well in class! What's wrong with that?"

Penelope placed a soothing hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Your classmates seem like a bunch of nasty, ignorant brats." Hermione nodded in agreement. "So, from where I'm standing, you probably wouldn't want them as your friends anyway."

"I'd rather have them as my friends than as my enemies!"

Penelope paused as she thought that through. "I certainly wouldn't want such rotten friends." Seeing Hermione's frustrated frown, she quickly continued on with her thought. "At the same time, though, I can see where you're coming from. Have you tried making friends from different houses? Well, not Slytherin, but you know what I mean."

Hermione gave a lone sniffle. "Professor McGonagall said that your house was supposed to be your family."

"That's true; you certainly can't choose your family," joked Penelope. "You _can_ choose your friends, though."

The Gryffindor pursed her lips, "Not if they don't choose you as well." Penelope sighed as the younger girl found the hole in her logic. "But," Hermione conceded, "I suppose I can try looking for friendship in other places."

Penelope smirked triumphantly. She was glad to have succeeded in comforting Hermione. She smiled down at the first year as she leaned against the sink, "Who knows, you might even find it in a bathroom." Hermione's head snapped up in shock. She gave the older girl a questioning, shaky smile. Once again, Penelope smiled back at her.

They lapsed into silence.

After a few minutes of simply standing in each other's presence, Penelope spoke again. "Now, why don't we get to the feast? It should be starting in…" she trailed off as she looked down at her watch, "ten minutes."

Hermione shrugged, "I don't really feel like sitting with my housemates right now. I think I'll just go back to my dorm and do some reading." She walked towards the bathroom's door.

Penelope caught up so that she was walking besides the Gryffindor, and slung an arm over her shoulders. "The Halloween feast is not something you want to miss. The decorations are lovely, and the spellwork behind them is interesting. You can sit with me and the rest of the Ravens." Hermione's previously steady steps faltered a bit as she contemplated what Penelope said. She nodded tentatively.

"Great," said Penelope cheerfully, and with that she steered them off to the Great Hall.

* * *

They entered with a few other last-minute stragglers. Nobody paid the pair much attention at first, but they received some questioning stares as they both made their way over to the Ravenclaw still arm in arm. The two ignored the looks they were getting, and Penelope led them to the end of the table where the first years were congregated.

With only a raised eyebrow as a prompt, room was made for the two girls. Penelope detached her arm from Hermione's shoulders and sat down. Hermione followed suit with mild trepidation. After a few moments of silence, Penelope nudged Hermione expectantly. Hermione cleared her throat. "Padma, could you please pass me the potatoes?"

With that, whatever tension that had appeared among the group was broken, and the first years went back to talking and eating. Padma passed the food without comment, and Hermione and Penelope started placing food onto their plates.

After ensuring that she had a balanced meal (including a goblet full of milk), Hermione glanced around the Hall. She took note of the few Gryffindors looking her way, but dismissed them without much thought. She was much more interested in the decorations, anyway. "Penelope, are the bats conjured or transfigured?"

Penelope had hoped that Hermione would engage in conversation with her peers, but she would take what she could get. "I believe they are conjured. Why do you ask?"

Hermione shrugged and made a "hm" noise. "I was thinking about which one is more taxing on the caster. Conjuring is more of an initial drain, but I've read that it is difficult to sustain transfiguration for longer periods of time. It is logical that the bats are conjured, though, because it would probably be too draining to sustain so many different transfigurations for this period of time." She went back to eating.

Hermione was oblivious to the interested looks of a few of the other first years in their proximity, but Penelope was not. She continued the conversation, hoping to draw the others into it. "That's an application of part of Brooke's Theory of Magic Consumption, Hermione. That's pretty advanced for a first year."

Hermione straightened her shoulders, and said in a mock haughty tone "It's common knowledge amongst those who find pleasure in reading." Penelope laughed.

A first year boy cleared his throat, drawing Hermione's attention to him. "Uh, Granger," he said hesitantly, "what book did you read that in?"

Hermione looked at him—she thought his name was Terry. "_On the Relative Power of Different Magicks_ by Marcus Brown," she answered slightly nervously. She could not tell whether or not he was genuinely interested or if he was just looking to make fun of her for reading higher level texts.

He nodded his head in acknowledgement of her answer, and looked at her for another moment before going back to his food. Hermione stared at him for a bit longer, and said "You may call me Hermione," before looking away from him again.

"I'm Terry Boot," he said to her. She gave him a brisk nod, and sipped her milk.

After another small pause, a few other people resurrected the conversation and questioned Hermione about the book. Hermione took their interest in stride, and explained the concepts to them briefly before recommending related books to them. Penelope silently smiled, pleased with the progress her friend was already making.

Another ten or twenty minutes passed in relative peace, and the conversation carried on for the majority of the time. Hermione was looking very pleased with her socializing. Of course, an interruption was due to spoil their fun.

Professor Quirrell's announcement was met with general panic amongst the students until Professor Dumbledore took control of the situation. After a few moments of trying to gather the younger years together, Penelope took note of Hermione's continued presence. She glanced around the hall, and groaned when she realized that most of the Gryffindors had already left. She was angered that no one had thought get Hermione back to her common room.

She cleared her throat, and announced authoritatively "Hermione will be accompanying us to the common room." There were murmurs of outrage at the thought of a Gryffindor encroaching on their domain. "Enough," she said sharply, cutting through any protest. "It would be unsafe to send her alone back to Gryffindor Tower with the troll on the loose. It would be just as dangerous to send a few people with her. She's coming with us, and that is final."

And it was final—no further protest came from the group of underclassmen. With no real fanfare, Penelope led the group of frightened Ravenclaws (and one Gryffindor) to their common room.


End file.
